


Part 1

by Danagirl623



Series: Daddy [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ageplay, Comeplay, Daddy!John, Dom!John, Husbands, M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Sadism, Spanking, spitting, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 12:50:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17044064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/pseuds/Danagirl623
Summary: John and Sherlock engage in a healthy BDSM relationship, but Sherlock’s fucked up. Punishment ensues.





	Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NeyMessi_FCB (Sherlockophobia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockophobia/gifts).



John Holmes smoothed his suit out, before he tucked his hands into his pockets quietly approaching his brothers-in-law. “All right. This is me heading out for the night. Thank you for inviting me, lads.” 

 

“Noo! John, stay! I know that the kid’s with Mrs. H-” Greg Holmes started to say, but stopped once he saw John’s mind was made up. “I’ll call you once I get back. We can go for a beer and bitch about our Misters.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” John smiled, tersely, then wrapped his friend in a hug. He turned to Mycroft and held his hand out to shake it. Mycroft glanced down, then back up at John. Daintily, Mycroft held his hand out to John who firmly shook Mycroft’s hand, and thought he had gotten away without getting questioned about his husband’s whereabouts. 

 

“Sherlock’s tracker shows he’s at 221B Baker Street,” Mycroft said, softly with a hard stare. 

 

“The tracker in his jacket or his cellphone?” John asked, with a lift of his eyebrows.

 

“Shoes,” Mycroft smirked, gleefully. 

 

John rolled his eyes, before he said in a whisper to avoid getting a telling off from Greg. “Because he only has one pair of shoes. He probably gave them to a bum and is paying him to squat in our alley.” 

 

Greg stepped in between the two men, causally. If someone who didn’t know the three of them, they’d assume it was on accident, but someone who knew them, knew Greg was diffusing the situation. “Tell John ‘thank you’ for coming.”

 

“Do tell Sherlock that I expected better from him.”

 

“Me too,” John agreed darkly, as he turned on his heel and walked away. He got his jacket from the coat room, and went outside to hail a cab. Finally one came, and he climbed in. He gave the instructions on where to go, and settled in for a calm ride. 

 

John leaned back on the seat, and pulled his cell phone out. No messages from Sherlock, not that he expected any mind you. He tucked it away, then watched out the window. When the cab driver pulled up to the address, he paid quickly and stepped onto the curb. John glanced at the grocery next to the restaurant that was just closing up for the night.

“Oi! Can I get those sunflowers before you close up?” He called, stepping quickly over to the man. John plucked them out of the bucket, and went inside.

 

“Dr. Watson, hello.” The young man winked at John. John glanced down at him, seeing the scabbed over pinpricks in the antecubital spaces of the elbows, the fading, overlaying stamps on his left inner wrist, and the slightly wrinkled clothes, likely from having been worn two days in a row.

 

_ Twink.  _

 

_ Drug addict.  _

 

_ Enthusiastic clubber. _

 

_ Crush on me. _ The deductions came to John now, almost as easily as they came to his husband. 

 

“Hello, Steve,” John returned, politely, reaching into his pocket to get his wallet out.

 

“Oh, no, Dr. Watson. You’re far too handsome to pay for these flowers. My Da was just going to throw them away.” 

 

John smiled blandly, then placed a 5 pound note on the counter. “Ta.”

 

“Where are you going looking like a snack? Don’t you want to come out for a drink tonight?” 

 

“I’m going home,” John answered firmly, tucking his wallet away. 

 

“Where’s the mister?”

 

“Home, already.” John ducked out of the shop and hurried to his own apartment. He let himself in the building, then knocked lightly on Mrs. Hudson’s door before he entered. “Mrs. H?” 

 

“Oh, John! You’re home early!” Mrs. Hudson greeted him. “How was Greg’s wedding?”

 

“Beautiful, of course. Expensive.” He smiled, before he presented the sunflowers to her. “Thank you for taking Rosie. It made my night so much easier.”

 

“Oh, John!” She exclaimed, with a grin, taking the flowers and smelling them. “These are lovely! I don’t know how you always manage to find the prettiest flowers in the heart of London, but I’m grateful.” 

 

“Just a gent’s luck, Mrs. H. Many battles are fought so you could have the brightest flowers in all of London.” 

 

Mrs. Hudson laughed, before she hugged John quickly. “Can’t Rosie stay the night? She just fell asleep and I’d hate to wake her up.” 

 

“Oh, Ta, Mrs. H. you’re a saint,” John glanced upstairs, then back at her. “Did you hear from my husband at all tonight?”

 

“Oh, no, dear. I’m sure the case he’s on is a… hard one. Well, you know that silly man.” She waved her hand, also with a glance upstairs. “He’ll clue us in once it’s time for us to know.” 

 

John glanced upstairs one more time, then said, “I just hope he’s not into something dangerous.” 

 

“Oh, John,” Mrs. Hudson said in a worrying tone. “Don’t say that.”

 

“I’ll come get Rosie tomorrow morning, or if by some miracle he comes home I’ll send him down.”

 

“Thank you, John.”

 

“You’re thanking me?” John laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkled up. “You’re a lifesaver, Mrs. H.”  He hugged her quickly, then snuck into Rosie’s room at her Grandma H’s. She was curled up on her side in her crib, happily sucking her thumb. John wanted to kiss her before he left, but ultimately decided against it. There was  _ no _ reason to wake a sleeping toddler.   

 

Quietly he left the first floor apartment and made his way upstairs. He paused at the top of the steps, to gather himself together. He straightened his tie, and then his suit jacket. He squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin. 

 

John pushed the door open, and stepped into his apartment. His eyes swept around the room before his eyes landed on his boy on his mat. Sherlock’s head was bent, his hands were on his knees, palms down, and his feet were tucked under his arse-just like John preferred. John walked away from where his Sub kneeled, and went into the kitchen. He went about setting up the kettle to start brewing. He came back out to the living room and looked down where his Sub was waiting. John held his hands out to help the youth stand up. 

 

“Time to get up. You need to take care of yourself.” John glanced down at the empty cookie plate and sweating water pitcher. “You need to void your bladder because I need you to finish the tea. Come on, baby. Stand up now.”

 

“Are you mad at me, Daddy?”

 

“Furious with you,” John confirmed, with a nod. “Come on, up you get, baby.” The brunet held out his hands, which John took, and helped him stand up. “Go ahead,” He slapped his Sub’s arse in encouragement as he walked away. “Leave your clothing in the dirty laundry basket in the bathroom.”

 

John sat down into his consulting armchair and pulled his book over. Immediately he lost himself in it. 

 

A clatter from the tea tray is what brought him back to the present. John placed the wristband from the recent Nowzad Dogs benefit to hold his spot before he placed his book to the side. He held his hand out for his tea cup. He felt thin, long violinist fingers brush against his own fingers, and smiled at the sneaky touch from his Sub. 

 

“Knees,” He commanded, as he took a tiny sip. John heard the boy settle into his kneel. “Good work on the tea.”

 

The lithe Sub smiled at the praise, but refused to look up. 

 

“I’m disappointed in you,” John said conversationally in a gentle, but stern tone. 

 

“Yes, Daddy.”

 

“Can you explain to me why? Look at me when you do.” 

 

Slowly, the boy lifted his tear-filled green eyes to meet stormy gray ones. “I disappointed you, by not fulfilling my obligations,” He paused, then cleared his throat and tried again. “That was too simplistic. I agreed to go to social gatherings with you, and then refused to go.” 

 

"You have no excuse.”

 

The brunet started to lower his chin, but caught himself before he actually did. His eyes did not waver as he nodded his agreement, “Yes Daddy.” 

 

“You had ample opportunity to join me at any function these past four weeks. You cancelled brunch with your Mum on the third and dinner with my sister on the fourteenth. Then the Nowzad Dogs benefit. Remind me why you  _ chose _ not to go.”

 

“Because I decided that it was pointless to be around a bunch of dogs I couldn’t adopt and even worse to be around soldiers out of uniform, but the absolute worst bit was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.” 

 

“Poor thing,” John tisked as he sipped his tea, then he continued. “Next was your brother’s wedding. You sent the RVSP back with yes for both of us, however backed out at the last moment. I know that you had your reasons-”

 

“He was being an arse! I asked him to be  _ my _ best man-”

 

“Do not interrupt me again. This is not how I taught you to behave.” John sipped his tea again, then changed his tone to reflect on the disappointment he felt. “Knowing this was the last engagement of the month, and you still chose to skip it.  What could you say for yourself, but ‘I fucked up’?"

 

The sub nodded sadly, as hot tears rolled down his cheeks. 

 

“What do you think is a fitting punishment?” 

 

“Please don’t make me pick my own punishment, Daddy. You’re so much better at it.”

 

“I am, but I want to know what you think you deserve.”

 

“Please don’t make me write lines.”

 

“Noted,” John nodded curtly before he sipped his tea silently. “I wish you had behaved. I’d let you have your violin.”

 

His boy looked sad at that. “I’m sorry Daddy.”

 

“You will be.” John placed his tea cup to the side, and gently stroked the boy’s cheek. John thought about the punishment, as he idly petted his love’s face. “Remind me what your hard limits are.”

 

“No urine or feces play and no strikes on the back.” 

 

John nodded, and reached for his tea again. He picked it up, and realized that it was empty. Absentmindedly he handed it to the boy. “Another cup, please. Work expediently.” The teacup disappeared from his hand with another sneaky caress. “So for your punishment tonight, it will be both physical and mental. First, I’ll start with swats. How many do you think?”

 

“Thirty.”

 

“Double it,” John said, watching a shudder go through his boy. He smirked, then asked, “Locations?”

 

“Arse and chest.”

 

“Thighs too, I should think. Ta, baby.” John took the teacup, and sipped it. “Crop or hand?”

 

“Hand, please.” the boy murmured as he settled back onto his knees. 

 

“Then you’re going to suck my dick. When I’m ready to orgasm, I’m going to come on your face and chest. You will then assume a position of my choosing and hold it for thirty minutes. You may not slip into your mind palace, if I think you’ve done that, I’m reading a children’s book to you.” 

The boy gasped, and started to complain, but was cut off by his Dom’s words before his own ever left his mouth. "There is nothing you have to say, barring safety concerns, that I want to hear.” Peacefully John returned to his tea, with a bit of a smirk. 

 

John took his time to drink his tea, ignoring the boy waiting by his knees. The boy, for his part, kept his head down with his hands firmly on his knees and waited. 

 

Silently, John placed the teacup down, and stood up from his chair. He picked up the tray and headed to the kitchen. He placed it in the sink, and emptied out the mesh tea strainer. Gently he rinsed it out, and placed the strainer on the drain to dry. He dried his hands, and went into the bedroom. He grabbed the massage oil, Sherlock’s preferred brand of muscle rub, and a length of nylon rope. He carried it out to the living room, he tossed them to the boy who didn’t flinch as they landed around him. 

 

“Baby, I need you to put them in order for me. I’m running upstairs,” John slowly took his time going up the stairs to his old bedroom where their daughter slept. He smirked as he pulled out Sherlock’s most hated book. He carried it downstairs and placed it next to his chair. He saw his other supplies waiting for him, and nodded his approval. He snatched up his rope, and wrapped it around his neck. 

 

“Under the hook. Put your hands up.” 

 

John followed behind him and stepped up carefully onto the side table, smoothing his suit out as he waited for the boy to act. Finally, long, muscular arms were at his eye level. John leaned over and pressed a kiss to each palm. He pulled the rope off his neck before he quickly and efficiently tied each wrist. He looped the rope around the hook, and tugged. The hook didn’t waver, and no ceiling bits fell. He jumped down, and dusted his hands off. John smoothed his suit down again, trying not to think about the dry-cleaning bill he was creating. With his hip, he nudged the table back. He stepped over to his boy, and soaked in just how beautiful his Sub was. 

 

“You may be as loud as you want. Cry, scream, beg all you want. There’s only two ways this ends, you safe word or ‘red.’ Now, lovely lad,” John said, as he ran his hands over the boy’s pale flesh appreciatively. “Tell Daddy what your safe word is?”

 

A low moan came out before he managed, “Browning, Daddy.” 

 

“Mmm. A new one. I like it. Let’s hope you remember to use it.”

 

“I will, Daddy!” Sherlock promised, with a nod. 

 

John ran his hands down the boy’s thin yet muscular body. “I’m going to start on your chest.” Slowly the blonde Dom walked around his boy, eyeing the flexing muscles and beautiful unmarred skin. John’s hand twitched in anticipation, as he ran his palms over his beautiful chest.

 

“Twenty, baby. You count for me.”

 

John leaned down and kissed his boy mid chest before he started. John rolled his left shoulder before he pulled his hand back. He took a deep breath, and slapped his boy’s chest with a cupped hand. 

 

“One!” 

 

John smiled before he struck again, rapid fire. 

 

The boy hissed between numbers. “Two, thre-fourrrr. Fuck. Five… Six, sev-eight nine ten! Fuck, Daddy!”

 

“Oh that mouth of yours!” John exclaimed before he switched sides of the chest and hit the boy ten more times.

 

“Elev-Twelv! Ow! Fuck! Thirteen, fourteen, fif-six.. Teen. Seven.”  The boy paused in his counting, and struggled at his ropes. “Eighteen, nineteen.”

 

“Last one on the chest. You ready?”

 

“Yes, Daddy. I can do it.” 

 

John pulled his hand back, and swung forward. His palm connected with bright red skin with a satisfying  _ crack! _

  
“Twenty, Daddy! Fuck!” The brunet panted, still struggling against his bonds. 

 

“If you ruin my ceiling, you won’t come for a whole year,” John threatened before he reached down and wrapped his hand around the boy’s erection. It was thick in his hand and John appreciated the feel of it in his hand as he stroked. John kissed up the boy’s chest and throat before he whispered, “Does this pain make you hard? Are you my little pain slut?” 

 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

 

“Forty left. Can you handle it, baby? Can you handle forty more for your Daddy?” John left go of the hard cock in his hand, and appreciated the whimper that came from the boy’s mouth.

 

“Yes, I can.”   
  


John walked behind the boy, trailing his fingers behind him. “Thighs or arse next, baby?”

 

“Thighs, please, Daddy.” 

 

John leaned down, and kissed in between shoulders blades. “Did you read my mind?” 

 

The sub nodded his head, then took a deep breathe. “My chest hurts when I rub against it.” 

 

John smiled at those words as he stretched his shoulder out again, before he cracked the boy’s thighs with a loud  _ smack! _

 

“One!” The boy cried, his leg muscles clenching then releasing. John shook his arm out, and slapped the thighs again and again.

 

The boy’s body jumped under the hits, and all sorts of verbalizations came out of his mouth in between the numbers. “Two, three!” A pant here. “Four! Five! Six!” A wordless cry now. “Seven! Eight, Nine! ten-Elev-Twelve-”  A groan came out of the boy’s mouth as he felt fingers run over his red thighs. “Thirteen, fourteen! F-f-fifteen! Sixteen! Sev-Eig-Nineteen! Fuck, Daddy, twenty!” 

 

“You beautiful lad. You did so well,” John praised quietly in his boy’s ear. John placed a quick bite to the earlobe, followed by a kiss. He pressed himself close to his boy, and snaked his hand around front to touch his boy’s hardened cock. “Mmm. I can’t wait until you suck me.”

 

“I get to suck your cock, Daddy?” 

 

“Well, if you make through these next twenty hits.” John continued to lean against his boy, but pulled his hands back to his sides. 

 

“Yes, Daddy! I can do it.” 

 

“Oh, what a good lad you are, baby!”  John cupped the boy’s pert arse with his right hand. With his left hand, he shook his arm out.  “You ready for more, or do you need another moment?”

 

“May I have another moment, Daddy, please?” 

 

John smiled at the request, and pressed himself closer to his boy’s scarred back. He kissed along shoulders, and reached around to stroke a few times. “That cock of yours is so hard. God, I can’t wait to get my mouth on it.” 

 

“Please, Daddy.”

 

“Shh, soon, baby. Twenty hits, then I’m going to get my dick sucked, then you’re going to get yours sucked, then we’ll finish your punishment.”

 

“I’m ready, Daddy.” 

 

Without preamble, John stepped away from his boy, and cracked his left arse cheek with a loud  _ crack! _

 

“One!” 

 

“Such a good boy for me!” 

 

“Two, three, fourfivesixseven- Daddy!” Sherlock cried, tugging on the hook from the ceiling. “Eight, nine, ten, ee-leven! Twelve, thirteen, fo-fou-fifteen! Sixteen, ssseventeen! Eighteen, nineteen…. Twenty!” the boy shouted, then his entire body slumped. He continued to pant, and squealed loudly when John touched his arse. 

 

John ran his fingers over the plush, red arse one last time before he placed a chaste kiss on the boy’s shoulders. He tasted sweat, and murmured, “Color?” 

 

“Yellow.”

 

“Not red?”

 

“Not at all, Daddy. Just barely yellow.” 

 

John nodded, then walked over to the small side table. He pulled it closer to the boy, and pulled the rope down. He stepped off the table, and untied the knots. John massaged first the left wrist then the right one. He flexed the boy’s hands testing his range of motion. Only when he was satisfied did he continue. 

 

“Kneel, baby, open my pants, then suck my dick.”  

 

John grinned, as he felt hands brush against his abdomen and heard fumbling with the belt buckle. The boy focused on his task, and soon had John’s leaking cock in his hands. The boy looked up and locked eyes with his Daddy as he wrapped his pink lips around the head of the thick cock. John moaned, and buried his hands in wild, sweaty curls, closing his eyes in pleasure. 

 

The boy worked his tongue around the sensitive head, sucking too. He wrapped his hand around the long cock in his hand, stroking from base his mouth in a slow steady motion. John groaned, and flexed his hips to push his cock deeper into the boy’s mouth. “Suck, baby. I’m so close for you.” John opened his eyes, lazily, grinning. 

 

“Please, Daddy,” the boy whined, swallowing as much of his Daddy’s cock as he could. John pulled back, then pushed in again, groaning loudly.  “Come for me, please, Daddy.”

 

“Fuck…” John said, pulled his cock out of the boy’s mouth. “Close your eyes, baby.” The boy squeezed his eyes shut, and tipped his head up. “You’re so beautiful, baby boy.”  

 

John wrapped his sore left hand around his prick, and stroked once, twice, thrice before he was coming. Thick, hot ropes of come shooting up and landing in splashes on the boy’s face and chest. John groaned, in satisfaction, while the boy whined in dissatisfaction.

 

John took his time, tucking his cock away and fixing his suit. He glanced up just in time to see the boys start to look uncomfortable as the come was cooling. 

 

“Stand up, baby,” he panted, lowering himself down to his knees. John’s own erection had flagged, but the boy’s was still going strong and leaking copiously. “You won’t last long, will you?”

 

“No, Daddy, I-” a moan broke out of the boy’s lips as his Daddy swallowed him down.  

 

John bobbed up and down on the leaking cock, sucking as he moved. He hallowed his cheeks, and worked swiftly. He kept glancing up to catch his boy’s eyes, which were wide and lust blown. The boy moaned loudly as John sucked as hard as possible, while moving up and down on the boy’s cock. 

 

“Daddy, can I come?” the boy asked, with a bit of panic in his voice. John’s entire body nodded. The boy grinned in glee, as he came, with a shout. John sucked and sucked, trying to hold all the come in his mouth, but only a bit leaked out. The boy pulled out, and sighed contently. 

 

John hurried to stand up before he grabbed a handful of brown sweaty curls. John held the boy’s face still, before he spat out all of the come he had in his mouth. He tried to aim for the chest, but couldn’t exactly control it. 

 

John wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and grinned widely at the boy. John watched panic come into the boy’s eyes as the body fluids started to cool and dry.  “Back against the wall.” The boy scurried to comply and John followed, moving him closer to the bedroom wall. “Now, squat, with your arms out straight ahead.”

 

John walked closer, and adjusted his position. “So,” he glanced at the watch on his wrist, and then back to the boy. “Thirty minutes are on the clock. Hold still. If I catch you moving, I’ll start reading  _ Hop on Pop _ while you try again, understood?”

 

“Yes, Daddy.”

 

“I want you to succeed... But this is all on you now. So show me how sorry you are, how compliant you can be.”

 

“Yes, Daddy!” the boy said, as he focused intently on his trial. “No mind palace, either, Daddy.” 

 

“What a clever lad!” 

 

John disappeared into the bathroom, and quickly got out of his suit. He jumped in the shower to rinse off, knowing that he had about ten minutes before he needed to check on the boy again. He cleansed himself, and brushed his own teeth twice. He glanced down at his watch and saw he needed to check on the boy. John wrapped the towel around his waist, and wandered out to the living room.

 

“How’s it going, baby?”

 

“It’s tough, Daddy, but I’m going to do it,” The boy said, with a determined grimace.

 

“Keep going, baby. You’re about a third of the way done,” John encouraged, then went back into the bedroom. 

 

John pulled out a warm pair of pajamas, and quickly dressed in them. He grabbed the boy’s favorite pair, and placed them on the bed. Then he went into the bathroom, and filled a basin with hot water, and grabbed a couple of towels. He went back to the living room, and placed the items on the floor. He went into the kitchen, and grabbed their favorite post sex snack and two bottles of water. He walked into the living room, and checked his watch. It had been twenty-two minutes. He placed the food down, and the water.

 

John looked at the boy who was visibly sweating and silently crying. The muscles in his arms and legs were shaking a bit from the exertion. “Eight minutes left, then I’m going to pamper you.”

 

“Daddy, I really fucked up. I-I should have gone to Nowzad with you.” 

 

“Yes, baby. I agree.”

 

“I was really stupid, Daddy. I’m so sorry.” 

 

The boy was properly crying, sobs racking his chest, as he struggled to keep his position. John had seen these kinds of behaviors before usually during basic training. Truthfully, this was a harsher punishment for the boy than anything he had experienced before.

 

“I thank you for your apology. I don’t enjoy having to punish you.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“Five more minutes. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

 

“Yes!” The boy replied enthusiastically. 

 

John stepped closer to the boy, and stroked his cheek. “You’re almost done. You can do this. When you’re done, I’m going to have you sit down on the floor and I’m going to wipe you off with some warm water. Then I’m going to rub your arms, and legs. I’m going to apply the topical pain medication, then I’m going to feed you biscuits and water.” He sipped from his own bottle of water, and ate a few biscuits himself as he was speaking.

 

The boy nodded, and gritted his teeth. “I really fucked up, Daddy. I’m going to do better.”

 

“I hope so, my lad. Then we’re going to go to bed, and I’m going to snuggle you.”

 

“Snuggles?” the boy asked, excitedly. “How many more minutes?”

 

“Two,” John answered with a flick of his wrist. He stepped away, and arranged the towels into a suitable throne for the boy. He also lowered the bowl of water to the floor and placed the flannel in it. He brought down the muscle rub and the massage oil too. “So close to being done.”

 

“About a minute left, right, Daddy?”

 

“About that.” John chuckled, as he walked over to his boy, and grinned at him. “You didn’t even disappear into your mind palace.”

 

“It was hard. My transport is very angry with me.”

 

John nodded, then glanced at his watch. He smiled as he watched the 30 minute mark come and go. “Alright, my boy. Put your hands on my shoulders, and we’ll walk over to the towels.”  

 

“I did it!” the boy exclaimed, slowly standing up. His muscles were fatigued and aching as he shuffled over to the towels. He lowered himself onto the pile before John set to work massaging the boy’s sore body using the massage oil from earlier. “You spoil me,” he groaned, contently. 

 

John smiled, and then leaned in to kiss the boy. “I love you,” he managed to say before he captured lips in his own.  The boy tried to kiss back, but groaned as he leaned forward. 

 

“I love you, too, John,” the boy murmured as he enjoyed the massage. “Tomorrow, I’m going to go for a real one.”

 

“Yes, you are, lovey boy.”

 

Sherlock made a disgusted noise at the term of endearment. “John, you really need to stop talking like that.”

 

“You are the only person I have ever met that doesn’t stay in subspace for hours, afterward.”

 

Sherlock grinned, “I don’t need to stay in subspace long. I have my mind palace.”

 

John shook his head, and wrung the flannel out before he started wiping Sherlock off. He started with his sweat covered and tear stained face before he systematically wiped every bit of skin clean. 

 

Then John rubbed the muscle cream into his sore limbs, before he disappeared into the bathroom to discard the bowl of water, the massage oil, and most of the towels. When he went out to the living room, he found a very sleepy Sherlock spilling water down his front and no biscuits left. 

 

“Come on, love. Let’s get you to the bathroom. I need you to empty your bladder, then we’ll put your favorite pajamas on and go snuggle.”  

 

“Thank you, John,” Sherlock said, as he struggled to stand up. John helped him up slowly, and walked beside him as they went to the bathroom. John sat Sherlock on the toilet, and disappeared in the bed room. By the time he came back, Sherlock was almost falling asleep again. 

 

John quickly dressed his husband in the softest pjs on the planet, before he carefully pushed him to the bed. John helped his husband into bed, then quickly finished cleaning up the apartment and locked the doors. He came over to where his husband lie, and nudged him gently.

 

“Take some paracetamol.” John held out the medication to his husband, who took it dry and laid back down. John turned off the bedroom lights, and crawled in behind his husband. 

 

Sherlock rolled over and wrapped himself around John with a bit of a groan.

 

John kissed his head, then started whispering all sorts of praises which didn’t seem to bother Sherlock in the least.

 

“I’m so proud of you, you did amazingly well. You are such a good boy. I’m so happy with you. I love you, Sherlock Holmes. Don’t fuck up like that again.”

 

A very sleepy reply of, “I won’t, Daddy. Love you.” made John wonder if he had truly come out of subspace earlier. 

 

“Good night my baby boy. Rest well, Daddy’s here.” 

  
  



End file.
